A Heart Can't Be Helped
by Darling Pretty
Summary: Mary is forced to confront her own sentimental thoughts. Companion/Sequel to Moonlight Becomes You.


**Okay, so someone requested a companion piece for Moonlight Becomes You focusing on Mary Poppins' perspective and magically, it actually happened. I think you ****should be okay if you haven't read Moonlight, but you might want to just to get the full story.**

**(Fun Fact: I actually published Moonlight Becomes You on the 70th anniversary of Bing Crosby recording the song. Well, I think it's pretty cool and magical. Or, you know, just a coincidence.)**

**The title is a lyric from a Regina Spektor song "Firewood" (that also happens to be the song I listened to obsessively while writing this).**

**As always, I own nothing.**

* * *

How could he?

How _could _he?

He _promised_! He had promised that he would remain her friend. _Merely_ her friend!

Mary flies about her tiny room in a panic, frantically straightening things.

He had promised her! Promised that his platonic feelings would never change, that they'd remain the dearest of friends but nothing more. Promised to be happy with that.

How could he break that promise? Did it really mean so very little to him?

How dare he? How dare he just suddenly kiss her? How dare he surprise her like that?

_How dare she enjoy it so much?_

No! There were many, many things brewing in Mary's head when he had kissed her, but enjoyment was certainly not one of them! She was surprised and angry and hurt. And she had in absolutely no way enjoyed herself.

Of course, his lips _had_ been surprisingly soft. And she _had _rather melted at the touch of his hands on her waist… But no! That sort of thinking is simply unacceptable. Slipshod, sugary thinking when the situation calls for clarity and rationale.

She simply can't have him behaving like this. She will never be able to properly do her job if he's in love with her. He's supposed to be her companion, her friend, her rock. Now he's gone and thrown everything out of balance. He's ruined _everything_!

She had been right to slap him! She had every right. He had taken her by surprise, taken advantage of her vulnerable emotional state.

Mary sinks down onto the small twin bed. It certainly isn't the most comfortable she's ever stayed in and she had brought out her own sheets, since the ones her employers had provided were scratchy and uncomfortable.

He hadn't taken advantage of her, she knows that. He would never do anything so ungentlemanly and she is insulting him just by insinuating that he might. Bert has only ever wanted what was best for her and is constantly putting her before himself. She had always assumed that it was because he was a gentleman and a good friend. It had never occurred to her that might be in love with her.

"Oh, Bert," she whispers quietly, a lone tear slipping down her face. "_Why_?"

Why her? Of course, she knows that men find her attractive. Why wouldn't they? Objectively, she is quite beautiful. But attraction doesn't have to lead to love, and with the way he kissed her… she just knows it isn't simply infatuation. Why couldn't he have fallen for someone normal, someone able to give him all she knows he wants?

She knows he wants a family; they've discussed it before. He wants a family and a long and healthy life with the woman he loves by his side. It's not something she can give him. It's not something she _wants _to give him.

Is it?

No, of course not. Because she'd have to love him to want to give him a family. And while she most assuredly loves him as a friend, she most certainly does not love him as a wife loves a husband.

Right?

Oh, damn him! Damn him! Damn him for falling for her and for kissing her and for making her question everything she thought she knew.

She can't possibly have feelings for him. He's her best friend, nothing more, nothing less. They've been this way for as long as she can remember; he's become such a part of her life that she can barely remember a time when he wasn't there. Their friendship hasn't changed in years.

_Except it has. __It's changed completely._

Frustrated, she throws herself back on the bed, lying on her back and covering her eyes with her hand. If she were less… well, less Mary Poppins she'd probably scream.

Then again, if she were less Mary Poppins, she probably would still be on that rooftop, kissing her best friend.

Where did _that _thought come from?

There is simply no way she can allow this to continue any longer. Her thoughts are driving her mad. Slipping her shoes back on, she opens the window and grabs her umbrella. Then she swings her legs out over the ledge and gracefully floats to the ground.

She hesitates slightly before setting off in the direction of his flat. She does her best to keep from thinking, concentrating instead on the quick, crisp clicking of her heels against the pavement. She easily makes her way into his building and raps sharply on his door.

He opens it after a moment and she almost wishes he hadn't. Her heart leaps to her throat when she sees his state. Bert is usually in some state of dishevelment, but this is different. His clothes are messy and wrinkled. His mouth is turned into a frown and, most worryingly of all, his eyes seem to have lost the twinkle that she so loves.

Because, she realizes in that moment, she does love him. She loves him very much.

"Mary," he says, blinking slowly, as if to try to ascertain she's not a mirage. "You're 'ere."

She swallows and takes a deep breath, preparing herself for what she's about to say. Her confidence flickers; the more her eyes trace the lines of his face, the surer she is of her feelings for him.

She coughs quietly. "That can _never_ happen again," she croaks, forcing the lump in her throat down.

He nods. "I know. An' I am so sorry. I never meant-"

"I understand," she cuts him off. "But all the same, it can never happen again. It puts everything I've worked for in jeopardy and I can't have that."

He looks down at his shoes. "I know, Mary. But… this… it isn't going t' just go away."

She takes a shaky breath, and forces herself to stay composed. "I know," she whispers. How well she knows. "I'll understand if you would prefer if we stopped seeing each other."

She doesn't know where that comes from. Of course she won't understand! She never wants him to leave her side. Closing her eyes for a moment, she prays that he won't take her up on the offer.

"No!" he exclaims before clearing his throat and calming down. "No, that'd… it'd be worse like that, I think."

She nods, breathing a sigh of relief. "If that's what you want."

"Is it what you want?"

No. She wants to rush into his arms and cover his face with all the kisses they haven't shared.

"Yes," she lies.

"Well, there you 'ave it."

She smiles sadly and repeats him. "There you have it."

He steps forward and pulls her into a hug, careful that it's not too tight or lingering or anything that might hint at romance. At least, at first he tries to make sure of those things. But she doesn't let go when he expects and he tightens his grip on her torso. She rests her head on his shoulder and he presses a kiss into her hair. "I love you, Mary," he whispers. "An' if that 'as t' be as your friend an' nothin' more, I'll do it."

The corners of her mouth turn up into something resembling a smile as she steps away from him. She touches his cheek gently.

"I should... I should get some sleep," he says and she realizes just how badly she's toying with his emotions. She nods and gives him an encouraging smile before turning to leave. He gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek and goes back into his apartment.

She turns a corner and leans against the wall, fingers lightly tracing where his lips had just been.

"I love you too," she says softly, nearly succumbing to the urge to weep.

Then she straightens, composes herself, and becomes Mary Poppins again as she strides back to her post. Mary Poppins, touched by neither time nor romance. Mary Poppins, untroubled by sentiment.

Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way.

And yet she can still feel where his lips touched her cheek.


End file.
